From The Ashes
by TheWinterGoddess
Summary: We were never promised this life. We knew it was never certain, but it was the one we fought for. We won the war, we gained peace, we were married. It was supposed to be our happy ending. In a perfect world it would have been. If life had taught me anything, this wasn't a perfect world.
1. Chapter 1

**_Zuko_**

My fingers claw at the ground, nails digging deeper and deeper into the dirt. Pushing it under my fingernails causing my knuckles to grow white. I can taste the blood on my lips as the tears run down my face. The smell of rain unnerves me. The tears fall faster, my grip on the earth crumbles the dirt in my fingers. My teeth dig tear into my lips but it does nothing to quiet the sob that shakes my body. I feel the earth shattering scream rather than hear it.

Even after all these years the pain still feels as fresh as the moment it did when realization first awakened my senses to horrible truth. I can feel the air leaving me. My heart is pounding, threatening to break through my chest.

I can hear the thunder in the background, with glossy eyes I see the lighting. "Please," I beg weakly through my sobs. "Please!" I scream louder. Louder and louder I scream begging the spirits to finally have mercy on my soul.

As always lightening strikes but never at me. Never.

Cold arms wrap around me, but not hers. Not theirs. His arms hold me tighter, but it does nothing to comfort me. It only makes me wish that they were her arms. Her arms, their arms. I'd give up everything to feel them in my arms again and feel theirs in mine. If I knew the price I would pay it ten times over. No life is worth living without her without them, but the spirits curse me everyday with every waking breath.

I look to the grey stone in front of me and more sobs break through me. His arms hold me tighter as I shake and scream.

"I miss them. I miss them uncle." I can feel more of my soul chipping away, feel my throat tightening as I choke on my words. "I can't do this."

I can't. Time should make this better, every year it makes it worse.

I can never look into my wife's eyes again, eyes that my son had. Eyes that were so big and bright. Never see my daughter's smile. Never see my youngest take her first breath. Never, and every day is a reminder. A reminder of a life that was never promised. The only memory, a stone. As cold, dull and grey as the feeling of the day they were forced from my fingers.

I was never meant to bury my children. Never meant to live a life without my wife, but here lay the ashes of the life I once had. The family I lost the family I loved.

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 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar The Last Airbender or any property from it.**_

 _ **A/N:** Hi there, this is my first fanfiction, please let my know what you think. I'd really appreciate it. This story will be under different perspectives, I will be letting you know whose perspective it is under so there is no confusion. Anyway, thank you so much for reading, I really hope this got your interest and that you all liked it. _


	2. Chapter 2

_Iroh_

The deep loud roars of thunder grow silent and the lighting fades into the darkness. Rain slows to a gentle downpour as does his tears. His breathing now even and slow. Shoulders that were only a moment ago slumped over, now straight in perfect posture. I give him one more gentle squeeze before releasing him. He brings his fingers to his lips for a moment then places them on the engravement of the tombstone. Giving his wife and kids a kiss before returning back home. Standing up he scrubs his face from the last remaining tears.

Taking one final glance at the stone he turns and makes his way back to the palace. I don't follow him. He needs a moment of peace. A moment to collect himself before his current wife sees him. Lady Mai, a gracious woman. The ideal firelady. A perfect lady. "She's still nothing compared to you Katara." I breath out. "We miss you and the little ones everyday." Tracing my fingers over the engraved image of her and the children I feel the tears slide down my old wrinkled face.

Hokoda had engraved a picture of his daughter holding a baby in her arms with her son and daughter sitting next to her. Underneath the words, 'Forever the heart of the water tribe and fire nation.' She may not have been born in the fire nation, she didn't even have the blood of a firebender, but no other fire lady had been loved and respected as she had. She raised this nation to greatness. She cared for the people and took care of them as if they were all her children. She did more than any firelady had done and would ever do. When she died, the fire nation mourned her loss. When they heard her children had died with her, every parent wept for those innocent precious children.

The children, they loved the rain. Probably even more than their mother. Young Lu Ten used to splash in every puddle pretending to be a fierce waterbender. While my little Kya used to drag me be the hand to dance with her in the rain. I can practically hear their laughter at the memory. I can feel a smile tugging at the corner of my lips, but more tears fall instead.

The tears of all the nations could be felt in the rain that fell those weeks that followed their deaths. They honored her memory in their tears, and it was in her loss that their was finally peace amongst the people.

Their deaths left a scar more painful and visible than the one on my nephew's face. This he can never recover from. For once, I can't help him.

He thought his marriage to Mai and the birth of their daughter would heal him and give him peace. Fill the hole Katara and the children left behind. He was wrong, seeing his daughter grow only makes his pain much worse. It is a reminder that he will never be able watch his other children grow up. He loves his daughter, she's the apple of his eye. His reason for living, but she still can't replace his other children. The same way Mai can't replace Katara.


	3. Chapter 3

_Mai_

With agitated hands I place the scroll back down on the desk before running them through my hair. Gritting my teeth and forcing my eyes shut, I try to block out the sound of the rain pattering on the window. I hate the rain. I hate that with every drop memories of blue eyes and tan skin crawl up my spine like the tip of dagger being dragged against my skin. Opening my eyes I lean back against the chair, hoping the painted dragons on the ceiling will erase her face.

I don't even know if it's really her face I remember. Maybe it's just her ocean blue eyes that are engraved in my memory. Eyes that breathed kindness but held a deadly storm deep within them. Eyes that I imagine faded from vibrant blue to a dull grey as the last bit of life left her bloody and tired body.

Eyes I thought I would never see again, yet still feel bore into my flesh. Eyes that haunt me. Eyes that stare back at me behind the mask of my daughter's face. Judging me, patronizing me, forcing me to feel the guilt I've tried to keep locked away for all these years.

Guilt. What a funny thing. I wish I could laugh at my own joke, but I can't. I've lied to myself everyday for seventeen years. Trying to convince myself that I was innocent. Trying to convince myself that I did the right thing. Tell myself there was no way I could have known she survived the rebellion attack that night. I've lied to myself so many times, told myself so many different lies. Hoping that one day I would actually believe them.

Even with all the luxuries of royalty, believing lies wasn't amongst them. Instead I swallowed my guilt with every cup of tea I drank. Listened to it as it whispered in my ear. Feeding me with a fire that kept melting away my sculpted mask day after to spill my shame from my red lips like a fountain.

The hair on the back of my neck stands and my breath hitches as I hear the proof of my lies and deceit walk past my door. She doesn't know. She can never know. He can never know. To speak the truth would be sentencing myself to death.

How do I look into my husbands golden eyes, and tell him everything he thinks he knows is a lie? How do I tell him the wife and children he so dearly misses lives in our daughter… no not our daughter. His daughter. Her daughter. Their daughter.

How do I tell him, that I all but had a newborn child torn from her breast practically prying open cold slender fingers? How do I tell him, that his wife wasn't burnt alive but died in blood and agony as she pushed her last bit of life into his daughter's? How do I tell him I betrayed someone I once called friend for my own selfish gain? How do I tell him that I was just a pawn in a political game? How do I tell my husband that the vows I made to him and the people are the same vows I had broken since before our wedding night? How do I tell my husband that I loved him to the point that seeing him with another woman broke my heart so much that a monster grew in my place? How do I tell my husband that my love for him was so powerful, I had committed some of the most vial of sins?

I can feel my eyes burning now as my vision grows blurry. I bring my porcelain fingers to touch my cheek feeling the wetness as if it's a foreign object.

I hate the rain, because when it rains my tears fall with every drop. They fall because despite all I've done for my country and for my husband. He still doesn't love me even a fraction of how he loved her. He was never in love with me, although part of me wishes I can say other wise. He cares for me, he holds affection for me, but I'm not the one he holds in his heart. He graces me with smiles and gentle touches. With small kisses on my cheek and forehead. With adoring eyes and more affection than any woman could ask for but it's all meaningless.

This is my punishment for taking a life that was never mine to take. For falling into political schemes. I'm trapped in a loveless marriage and in the finest built prison made of gold.

I can hear her laugh in the rain, but it's the storm that has just faded that I fear. Every storm is a warning of the wrath she'll unleash on me for my betrayal. I can only hope for a small mercy for raising and loving her daughter the way I do, but I know I will never be forgiven.

I tell myself taking this child in was a mercy. Raising her as my own was a kindness. I tell myself this motherless child needed someone to love and take care of her. I laugh, because it's all lies, a sick joke I tell myself to feel better. The truth has always been the same. No matter how many times I try to lace it with something sweet.

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 _ **A.N. Hey guys! Thank you for the reviews, the following and the favorites. It means a lot to me to see how much you really like this story so far. Please keep reviewing I love reading them. Now that we've reached this point, things are about to get really intense. Mai was actually really interesting to write because I found it a bit of a challenge. I don't typically read too much on her, but the times I had I've noticed that she is written bitter and mean. I wanted to give her a bit more depth. For those of you that really love Mai, please let me know what you think. I'd really like to know. **_


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